


We tried to talk about the old days (There wasn't much we could recall)

by thegirl20



Series: there is strength in your softness (Yennefer/Tissaia) [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: A chance meeting in a marketplace leads to potential awkwardness.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: there is strength in your softness (Yennefer/Tissaia) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724788
Comments: 57
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

Yennefer stops at a merchant's table, admiring a bracelet he has displayed on his dark red velvet cloth. She picks it up and drapes it over her wrist. The chain is thin, delicate, with three tasteful sapphires strung at intervals.

"Would you like to try it on?" The Merchant asks, giving her a smile laden with intent. She looks down at the bracelet and shakes her head.

"No. It would be for a gift, so there's little point in seeing how it looks on me."

He tuts. "People should be buying you such gifts, not the other way around."

She gives him a tight smile and holds out the bracelet, no longer charmed by it. "I'll leave it." She moves on, letting her fingers drift over fine silks at the next stall.

An opportunity had arisen for a short visit to Beauclair as a diplomatic envoy. Yennefer had offered to take it, and had persuaded Tissaia to accompany her for a few days of peace. After Tissaia's long recovery from the ravages of Sodden, Yennefer was insistent that they both deserved a little time to do nothing. She persuaded Triss to back her up with some comment on how the warm air would help Tissaia's lungs. Which she assumes is true, as Triss would _not_ give inaccurate medical advice.

Tissaia eventually agreed to the trip, and they have passed a day and a half doing very little except eating, walking and spending time in bed. She smiles as she thinks of how she left Tissaia; gloriously naked and snoring gently after their early morning activities. It's still such a thrill being allowed to see Tissaia unguarded and vulnerable. She hopes she never tires of it.

The next stall offers up a vast range of massage oils, promising everything from increased libido to a cure for baldness. She's sniffing a particularly potent vial when she hears a familiar, and not totally welcome, voice from behind her.

"Yennefer of Vengerberg! As I live and breathe!"

She wrinkles her nose and turns. Sure enough, he's there in some ludicrous turquoise and purple outfit. She nods. "Jaskier." Her eyes flit around the marketplace, wondering if he's alone.

"I heard about Sodden," he says, coming closer. "Bards across the Continent are falling over themselves to write songs about your exploits." He winces. "I mean, I can't be sure the accounts are accurate of course, since you incinerated most of the actual witnesses."

She tries not to wince at the careless way he throws those words around, as if she doesn't still hear the screams at night and wake with the smell of burning flesh in her nostrils. She lifts her chin and regards him.

"Well, you know how Bards like to exaggerate," she says, though she can't deny she's a little curious to hear these songs.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Listen, it would do wonders for my reputation if I happened to get an account of the battle from the horse's mouth, so to speak." He's rummaging in his satchel, presumably for a quill and parchment. He comes up empty handed and shrugs. "Just tell me and I'll remember it and write it down later."

"Another time, perhaps." She lifts her eyebrows. "And you? How's life treating you? Still following Geralt around like a stray puppy?"

He smiles. Like he knows something she doesn't. "For your information, we are practically co-parents to a delightful young lady."

That hits harder than she expected, but she keeps her face indifferent, turning back to peruse the oils once more as she continues to speak. "He finally went and picked up his Child Surprise then?"

"Indeed." He purses his lips. "Well, she found him, really. It's a long story." He continues before she can respond. "And, before you ask, no he's not _with_ anyone at the moment. Not that I'm sure he's ever _with_ anyone, because he's always thinking about you."

Yennefer pauses. She hadn't been thinking of asking that. She hadn't been thinking of it at all. "It's of no consequence to me. He can bed half the Continent if it pleases him." Yen shrugs. "And I _am_ with someone. Someone who didn't manipulate my feelings using a wish."

"Oh!" Jaskier's eyes go wide. When she doesn't continue, he shakes his head. "Come on, Yennefer, you can't just leave it at that. I need details. What's his name? What does he look like? When did you meet him?"

She hides a smile. "I met _her_ a good few decades ago now."

"Her? Gods above is no one safe from your clutches?" He rolls his eyes. "Go on, then. Who's the poor unfortunate wench that's ended up saddled with you?"

"Tissaia De Vries," Yen says, warmth spreading through her chest, just from saying her name.

His brow creases. "Tissaia de Vries? Isn't she the Rectoress of Aretuza?"

"Yes, she is," Yennefer confirms, not keen on his tone. "What of it?"

"So you're fuck-" Yennefer widens her eyes in warning and he holds up his hands. "I mean, that is to say, making sweet lady love to your old teacher?"

"That's not-" She presses her lips together at his description of their relationship. How dare he presume to know her. "That's not what it is. It's more. Much more."

"Oh," Jaskier says, drawing out the word and pressing a fist to his mouth. "Are we to believe that Yennefer of Vengerberg is... _in love_?"

She swallows, annoyed that he has her on the back foot; she should never have allowed him to question her. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Very much so."

Jaskier tilts his head and smirks. "And does your lady know she's just a placeholder until destiny catapults you back into Geralt's bed?"

A chill settles at the pit of her stomach, even as she outwardly scoffs. "Please." She rolls her eyes. "I loved her before I knew what the word meant. I loved her before I knew Geralt existed. And I'll love her long after I've forgotten all about him."

"Well, well." He lifts his eyebrows. "Aren't we a brave little witch? Spitting in destiny's face?" Before she can comment, he carries on. "But, if you're so certain all is well, then you should join Geralt and I for dinner. He's due to arrive tomorrow around noon and I'm sure he'd be _delighted_ to see you."

"I'm not sure Geralt's ever been delighted in his life," Yennefer comments. "Fine. Dinner tomorrow night, then. We're staying in a little tavern by the river." She nods in the direction of it. "The food is simple, but hearty. We'll meet you there."

"Oh, you most definitely shall," Jaskier says. "And I can't _wait_ to meet the woman who has, apparently, won your heart."

"There's no 'apparently' about it, Jaskier," Yennefer tells him. "And she doesn't suffer fools gladly. So, take from that what you will." She nods. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She doesn't wait for his answer, and turns to leave, regretting this hasty decision more by the second.

* * *

Arriving back at their lodgings, Yennefer looks at the bunch of wildflowers grasped in her hand. She'd seen them growing by the path on her way back and, on a whim, picked them for Tissaia. They now feel like a poor attempt at distraction, and she sighs, but keeps hold of them as she enters their room. Tissaia looks up from a book she's reading, settled in an oversized armchair. Yennefer's heart seizes at how small it makes her look. She has started to regain the weight she lost during her recovery from the dimeritium poisoning, but she's still too thin. Sometimes Yennefer will catch an angle of her hipbones protruding just that bit too much and be reminded of her gaunt, almost skeletal appearance as she fought the poison.

Tissaia sets the book aside and rises with a smile. "You were gone a while. You should have woken me and I'd have come with you," she comments, her eyes dropping to the flowers. She lifts an eyebrow. "Are these for me?"

"Yes," Yennefer thrusts them forward, like an awkward youngster with a crush.

Taking the flowers, Tissaia lifts one to her nose, smiling at its scent. "Any particular reason?"

"Does there have to be?" Yennefer asks, although there very definitely is in this case. She aims for a lighter tone as she continues. "Sometimes a flower is just a flower, Tissaia. Didn't you teach me that?"

"I did," Tissaia looks unconvinced; Yennefer sees her eyes drop to where her fingers have twisted into the fabric of her dress and she stops fidgeting, linking her hands behind her back instead. Tissaia steps towards her and brushes a soft kiss at the side of her lips. "Thank you. They're beautiful."

She watches Tissaia place the flowers in a vase, and arrange them. She bites her lip.

"I've potentially done something stupid," she blurts out, unable to keep it in any longer.

Tissaia turns to look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "You say this like it should still shock me."

Yennefer wrinkles her nose. "Very funny."

Satisfied with her handiwork, Tissaia turns fully, dusting her hands together. "On the scale of stupid things, are we in the realm of ' _I've given Sabrina facial pox to annoy her_ ' or ' _I've opened a portal to a hellscape and there are otherworldly beings coming through it_ '?"

Frowning, Yennefer considers the question. "Somewhere in the middle," she decides. "But definitely more towards the facial pox end."

Tissaia smiles, lifts a hand and cups Yennefer's cheek, stroking just under her eye with her thumb. "Well, then I'm sure we can cope with whatever it is," she murmurs. "What did you do?"

She closes her eyes and turns her face into Tissaia's hand, pressing her nose and lips against it. "I've arranged for us to dine with Geralt tomorrow." She opens her eyes. "And Jaskier and this child they've acquired."

Tissaia's face remains impassive, but Yen doesn't miss the slight tightening of her jaw.

"Arranging a dinner is definitely at the tamer end of things you could have told me, I agree," she says, finally, withdrawing her hand and turning away.

"Yes." There's a tension sitting in the space between them now, and Yen doesn't like it. "Is that- I mean, do you-" She swallows. "Is that alright with you?"

"Of course," Tissaia says, flashing a quick smile at Yennefer before busying herself with rearranging some items on the table. "They are your friends-"

"Jaskier's an acquaintance, at best," Yennefer puts in.

"-why shouldn't we pass an evening with them?" Tissaia asks, moving to the bookshelf, taking books out and shifting them around.

"You know why," Yennefer says, quietly. She feels worse about this than she did previously.

"Because Geralt is one of your past lovers?" Tissaia lets out a curt laugh. "My dear, I'm sure we both have more than a few-"

"It's not that," Yennefer interrupts, because she really doesn't like to think about Tissaia lying with other people. "It's not because he's a past lover."

She steps up behind Tissaia, taking a book out of her hand and putting it back before urging her to turn around. She takes both of her hands, to prevent her from trying to tidy anything else while they have this discussion. Rubbing her thumb along the ridge of Tissaia's knuckles, she sighs.

"What if-" She closes her eyes. "When we-"

"You're worried that when you see Geralt, the feelings caused by his wish will resurge." Tissaia says it casually, but Yennefer can feel the rigidity in her hands, can see how her arms are pulled back and her shoulders sitting too high.

"Yes," Yennefer admits. "When I've seen him before, I've-" She sighs in frustration. "Whatever I've felt for him has been false, manufactured. But-"

"But it feels genuine," Tissaia whispers.

Yennefer nods, her eyes prickling with tears. "Those feelings were never real. And they're _nothing_ compared to how I feel about you. But-" She looks down and sighs, tightening her hold on Tissaia's hands. "I'm worried that I'll see him, and I'll feel things that aren't in my control." She looks up and meets Tissaia's eyes, trying to read what's there. "I love _you_. I'm happy with you." She presses one of Tissaia's hands against her chest, above her heart. "And that _is_ real. And I don't want to fuck it up because of a stupid dinner Jaskier goaded me into."

Tissaia smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She takes her hands from Yennefer's grip and reaches up to set them on Yennefer's shoulders. They stand that way for a moment, just looking into one another's eyes. Tissaia sighs and presses a gentle kiss to Yennefer's lips and then pulls her close. Yennefer wraps her arms around her, holding her tightly, almost desperately. Tissaia's fingers play in the fine hairs at the nape of Yennefer's neck and she feels another sigh exhaled against her chest. "Let's just wait and see what tomorrow brings, shall we?"

Tightening her arms, Yennefer nods. They don't really have any other option.

* * *

That night, when they make love, it's intense. Though Tissaia is always a passionate woman, there's something different about her touches. Yennefer had wondered if she would perhaps be angry, or possessive, maybe even seeking to mark her territory in some way.

But it's not like that at all.

If she didn't know any better, she'd say Tissaia was trying to memorise every inch of her body. Her caresses are slow and tender. Her fingers explore first, blazing a trail for her mouth to follow. She takes Yennefer to the heights of ecstasy many times before she relents and lets her reciprocate.

Yennefer tries to respond in kind, to take care of Tissaia the way she had taken care of her, but Tissaia doesn't allow her to. Whenever Yennefer tries to move down her body, she urges her to stay. So she stays, she lets her weight cover Tissaia, lets their foreheads rest together, looks into Tissaia's eyes.

Afterwards they lie tangled together, with Tissaia's face pressed into Yennefer's neck.

She's not sure either of them sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The tension is still there the next day. It hangs in the unusual silence as they dress and ready themselves for the day. It's sitting between them as they breakfast, as surely as the pitcher of apple juice on the table.

In an attempt to shake it off, Yennefer suggests a mid-morning walk to which Tissaia readily agrees. They set off and head along the riverbank, stopping several times to admire the view or sit for a spell. They come across a small, rocky beach where Yennefer attempts to skim stones across the surface of the water and fails miserably. She keeps trying, though, because her spectacular failures and resulting curses are at least making Tissaia smile.

When it's time to head back, Tissaia takes her arm and holds it with both hands as they walk.

In the marketplace, Yennefer spots the same merchant she'd been speaking to yesterday, and takes Tissaia's hand to lead her over. He watches them approach, eyes flicking between them, as he figures out who Yennefer had been browsing for.

"You have returned, then?" He smiles, not kindly. "You've realised, perhaps, that no-one else offers the treasures that I do?"

Yen holds in a sigh and nods to the bracelet she'd admired the day before. "Can I see that one again?"

"Yennefer-" Tissaia begins, but he's already reaching for it.

"But of course," he holds it out to Yennefer, tilting his head at Tissaia. "Now that you have the wrist it will adorn, yes?"

She takes the trinket and undoes the catch, holding it out for Tissaia to try on.

"You don't have to do this," Tissaia tells her as she lets Yennefer fasten the jewellery on her wrist, tilting it so they can both admire the jewels.

"Do what?" she asks. "Buy you a present?"

"Atone for what you're worried will happen later today," Tissaia says. She touches Yennefer's face to get her to look at her. "None of this is your fault."

Her throat growing tight, Yennefer tries to laugh. "For a change."

Tissaia's lips quirk slightly. "Be that as it may, it's not your fault that Geralt made his wish. It's not your fault that you are bound to him."

"It _is_ my fault that we're going to be confronted with it, though, isn't it?" Yennefer says. "I could just have bid Jaskier goodbye and walked away."

"And then we would have had to deal with it at some later point," Tissaia reasons. "People bound by destiny will cross paths, it's inevitable."

Sighing, Yennefer shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

"Hush," Tissaia says. "As I said, it's not your fault."

Yennefer brushes her fingers over the bracelet still on Tissaia's wrist. "Let me buy this for you. To assuage my guilt a little." She tips Tissaia's face up, swiping a thumb beneath her eye. "It matches your eyes."

Tissaia smiles. "Very well. If you insist."

"I do." She turns to the merchant, who has clearly been pretending not to listen to their conversation. "We'll take the bracelet."

He nods. "Excellent choice. It is a beautiful piece for a beautiful lady."

Stepping away from Tissaia, so she doesn't hear the discussion of money, Yennefer lowers her voice. "It was fifty, yes?"

"Sixty," he says, lifting an eyebrow when she frowns. "Inflation."

The cheeky bugger knows she's not going to haggle over the gift with Tissaia so close. She narrows her eyes and thrusts the money into his grubby hand. He bows, tipping his hat to Tissaia.

"A pleasure, ladies. I wish you health and wealth to wear it."

Tissaia graces him with a nod and she takes Yennefer's elbow again as they start their walk back to the tavern.

* * *

The early evening sun casts a warm glow over their room as they get ready for dinner. Tissaia comes out of the washroom and stops short, frowning.

"Why are you wearing riding clothes?" she asks.

Yennefer looks down at herself. The tight leather trousers and black doublet over a white shirt were the oldest and most worn looking item of clothing she had brought with her. She shrugs.

"It's just dinner. I don't see the need to go to any particular effort."

Tissaia purses her lips the way she does when she's trying to hide a smile. She approaches Yennefer and walks around her. Coming to a halt in front of her she shakes her head. "If this is your attempt at trying to make yourself look in some way dowdy or unattractive, darling, I can tell you now that you have failed completely." For emphasis, she splays a hand on Yennefer's hip, fingertips tapping her backside.

With a sigh, Yennefer drapes an arm around her shoulders, resting their heads together as they both look in the mirror. "Curse these infernal good looks of mine."

Humming her agreement, Tissaia kisses her jaw and turns away, displaying her back to Yennefer. "Would you?"

"Of course," Yennefer tugs the dress into place and starts work on the many hooks that fasten it. She pauses, leaning in so her lips are by Tissaia's ear. "Or we could just pretend we've forgotten about the dinner and I could take this off you instead?"

Tissaia's shoulders lift and sink under her chin as she sighs. "As tempting as it is to shut out the world and just be with you, this is something we have to confront." She brings a hand up and cups Yennefer's cheek. "Best to grasp the nettle, so to speak."

Yennefer turns and kisses her temple. "I love you," she whispers. "And _only_ you. No matter what happens this evening, please remember that." She wraps her arms around Tissaia's waist and pulls her closer. "My feelings for you are real."

Turning to bring their lips together, Tissaia nods. "I know. And I love you." She sighs. "Come, let's get this over with."

* * *

They make their way downstairs into the crowded tavern proper. Yennefer takes hold of Tissaia's hand and squeezes it. The answering squeeze calms her slightly and she inhales through her nose, casting her eyes around the room for Geralt's distinctive figure.

She catches sight of him standing at the bar. His back is facing them, but there's no doubt who it is. Jaskier stands by his side, talking ten to the dozen as usual, along with a young girl, her hair almost as white as Geralt's. It's Jaskier who catches Yennefer's eye, his own lighting up as he alerts Geralt to her presence.

As Geralt turns, Yennefer holds her breath, terrified that she'll see his face, or his eyes, and be flooded with all those old feelings.

He turns. Their eyes meet.

She feels _nothing_.

Perhaps affection for an old friend. But nothing more. There's no swirling in her gut, or tightness in her chest just from being in the same room as him. There's no compulsion to run to him, to kiss his stubbled chin and smell him.

It's all gone.

A laugh bubbles out of her throat, unexpectedly. Geralt frowns. She assumes he too is realising the bond is no longer there.

 _It's gone!_ She tells Tissaia in her mind. _The bond; it's not there anymore! I can't feel it at all!_

There's a flood of emotion through their mental connection that Yennefer immediately recognises as profound relief; Tissaia had been far more worried than she was letting on. She turns to see her face, watching in wonder as the stress literally leaves her body. Her shoulders become less rigid, her back loses its ramrod, and her fingers loosen their grip on Yennefer's hand, choosing to link their fingers loosely instead.

 _Well then. Perhaps we can just enjoy dinner, now?_ Tissaia suggests. _Without your crushing guilt bearing down on us?_

She has no time to respond, because Jaskier has made his way through the crowd and is kissing Tissaia's free hand. "'Tis an honour to meet you, Rectoress De Vries." He bows with a flourish. "Jaskier, at your service." He ushers Geralt forward. "And I'm sure you know my friend-"

"Geralt of Rivia," Tissaia says, sparing him the bother of an introduction. She holds out her hand. "I've heard much about you."

"And I you, Rectoress," Geralt says, taking her hand and bowing his head slightly. "Your reputation precedes you."

"As does Yennefer's," Jaskier says. "But for different reasons, I imagi-ooofff." He staggers a few steps from the force of Geralt's backhand to his stomach.

"I apologise for my uncouth companion, Rectoress," Geralt says. "He has yet to learn the merit of silence."

"Don't concern yourself," Tissaia says, lifting her eyebrows at Jaskier. "Yennefer has briefed me." She turns back to Geralt. "And you must call me Tissaia, please."

Geralt nods. It's odd to see them interacting, Yennefer thinks. Even for them to be existing in the same place is strange. They've been such separate parts of Yennefer's life. Her time with Geralt feels like another lifetime.

"Yen," he says, meeting her eyes briefly. "You look well."

He offers her no kiss, nor handshake. Yennefer thinks that's probably for the best, given the circumstances, so she smiles and inclines her head.

"So do you." She makes a show of sniffing the air. "And you've even bathed for the occasion. We are most flattered."

That prompts a small smile from him, and punctures the tense atmosphere that had been threatening to settle over them. Geralt looks behind him and gestures for the girl to come forward. Her eyes flick between Yennefer and Tissaia as she does so, sizing them up. Yennefer recognises the distrust in her eyes, having seen it many times in the mirror, especially when she was the girl's age.

And there's chaos in her. Yen can sense it.

"This is Ciri," Geralt says.

"Nice to meet you, Ciri," Yennefer says, offering her hand. "I'm Yennefer, and this is Tissaia."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Ciri says. Yennefer notes that she dips into a perfect curtsey as she shakes Tissaia's hand. This is no peasant child. Her countenance and her manners speak of money, of power. Yennefer can see that Tissaia is intrigued by the girl too, even though she gives very little outward appearance of it.

"Well, shall we find a table?" Jaskier asks, clapping his hands together. "I, for one, am eager to eat."

 _What is it?_ Yen asks, as they make their way through the bustle.

 _That child is brimming with chaos._ Tissaia shakes her head. _I've rarely sensed such power in one so young._

 _I can feel it too. Has she had a conduit moment?_ Yen wonders. _It seems strange you wouldn't have picked up the disturbance in chaos, if she's so powerful._

 _I don't think she's a common mage._ Tissaia frowns. _And I get the distinct impression that Geralt is not going to be forthcoming about her background, if asked._

Yennefer laughs. _Geralt's not forthcoming about anything, so don't be offended._

They find a table and settle in. Yennefer doesn't like the mischief in Jaskier's eyes one bit and, sure enough, as soon as the meal is ordered, he starts with his questioning.

"So." He leans on the table, inclining his body towards Tissaia. "I'm _dying_ to hear how you managed to tame our Yen."

"Tame her?" Tissaia meets her eyes. "I'm not sure that's possible. Nor would I want to."

"That's _not_ what you said when I was seventeen and annoying the shit out of you," Yennefer observes before turning to Jaskier. "I'd recommend a safer line of questioning. Unless you wish to be singing in a much higher register from now on."

"You're no fun," Jaskier says.

"That's inaccurate," Yennefer tells him, but shifts her attention to Geralt. "So, killed any interesting monsters recently?"

As their food is served, Geralt relates a story involving an encounter with a Cockatrice near Yandra. Jaskier fills in the more gory details and Ciri gets involved, discussing how Geralt had looked when he returned from the battle and laughing along with Yennefer when she'd teased him about his hair about the blood turning his hair pink. Tissaia listens to the conversation with a quiet amusement playing at her lips, offering her own knowledge about uses for the tail feathers of the beast.

Tales are traded back and forth about their respective adventures. Yennefer even shares a little about Sodden and its aftermath. It's when their dishes are being cleared away, that they stumble onto the subject of the events of Rinde. She'd like to _think_ it was by accident, but there's part of her suspects Jaskier steered the conversation that way on purpose.

"And, of course, there was the time Geralt almost killed me by wishing for peace," Jaskier says. "Thereby blocking my throat and rendering me unable to speak and choking on blood."

Ciri gasps and turns an accusing gaze on Geralt. "You wished it so? How?"

"It wasn't intentional," Geralt assures her, his fist tightening around his tankard. "Though the peace was enjoyable."

"He unleashed a Djinn," Jaskier tells her, responding to the unanswered part of her query.

" _You_ unleashed a Djinn," Geralt corrects. "And all hell with it."

Tissaia's voice sounds in her mind. _They bicker like an old married couple_.

Yennefer looks over at her and raises her eyebrows with a smile.

_Like us._

Tissaia rolls her eyes.

"What else did you wish for?" Ciri asks. "A Djinn grants three wishes, does it not?"

Geralt shifts in his seat, and Yennefer looks anywhere but at him. Jaskier grins. "Oh, awkward."

Frowning, Ciri looks between them all. "I'm sorry, have I misspoken?"

"No, child," Geralt says. "I wished Jaskier silent. I wished a guard who was beating me would explode." He takes a drink. Yennefer feels sudden sympathy for him, forced to discuss matters involving feelings in front of a relative stranger.

"And he made a wish that saved my life," she offers.

"And bound her to him," Jaskier adds, earning a withering glare from Geralt. Jaskier ignores him and tilts his head at Yennefer. "How is that going, by the way? Any urges or-"

"The bond is severed," Geralt tells him. "And that is the end of the matter."

Ciri recognises that she should not pursue the topic, and excuses herself to get more water. Even Jaskier, for once, keeps his mouth shut. Yennefer watches Geralt and Tissaia exchange a look, then Geralt nods once, and their silent communication comes to an end.

" _So_ ," Jaskier says, drawing out the word to cover the awkwardness. "Tell us about Yen as a schoolgirl."

"Absolutely not," Yennefer says, shaking her head, but when she looks to Tissaia for agreement, she finds her eyes filled with mischief.

"Well, perhaps just one or two stories," Tissaia says.

And while she pretends to be put out by this, Yennefer can't help but enjoy the genuine happiness on Tissaia's face after the past couple of days. So her pouting is mostly for show, even during the story about the potions debacle.

It had only taken a couple of hours to change Sabrina back. And there are far worse things to be turned into than a frog.

* * *

The evening is drawing to a close as the hour grows late. The tavern has quietened, and Yennefer is returning some of their glasses when she notices Jaskier leaning on the bar, observing what looks like a very intense conversation that Geralt and Tissaia are having. She comes to stand beside him.

"What are you looking at?"

He jumps, having apparently not heard her approach. "Hmmm? Oh, nothing. I'm just trying to figure out what your type is. Because…" He gestures to the mismatched pair. "It is _not_ obvious."

She wrinkles her nose. "I don't have a type." But she can see where he's coming from. Geralt's hulking mass dwarfs Tissaia's tiny body, even in a seated position. She smiles as her eyes trail down Tissaia's body and see that her feet are dangling several inches from the floor. "And do remember, that I only fell in love with one of them naturally. So, if I _do_ have a type, it's her."

Jaskier lets out a soft laugh. "You know, I'd never have picked her out in a million years as a suitor for you," he remarks. "But you do seem to work well together."

"Believe me, _I_ would never have picked her out in a million years either," Yennefer admits. "I spent a large portion of my life telling myself I hated her. And yet, here we are."

"You're happy," Jaskier says, with a genuine smile.

"I am." She nudges him and nods to Geralt. "And no longer an obstacle for you."

He scoffs, huffing and blowing and forcing himself to laugh. "That's not- we're-" He shakes his head. "That would never happen."

She sighs. "Not so long ago, I'd have said the same."

"Yes, well, we can't all just burn an army to death to show our love, Yennefer." He rolls his eyes. "Some of us are mere mortals."

"Yes," she nods. "I can see that from the grey in your hair."

His hands immediately fly to his hair, smoothing it down and scowling at her. "It's really not fair of you to pick on people's appearance, when there's nothing they can say in return."

She ruffles his hair. "Just tell him." She shrugs. "You might be surprised."

And at that, she pushes away from the bar and approaches the table. Tissaia looks up and smiles. Her eyelids are heavy from lack of sleep the previous night, and from wine. Yennefer holds out a hand.

"I think it's time we bid you all good evening," she says, as Tissaia takes her hand and stands.

Geralt stands too, Ciri just behind him. Their eyes meet and again, the _lack_ of her previous level of feeling takes her by surprise. She smiles.

"It was good to see you," she says. "And good to meet you, Ciri."

They both nod in return. "Likewise," Geralt says.

Tissaia offers her hand to him and he takes it, giving it a firm shake. "Consider my offer," she says. "Both of you. Despite some of the stories you may have heard this evening, Aretuza can help you develop balance and control. It may help."

"Thank you, Rectoress," Geralt says. He looks back at Ciri and puts a hand on her shoulder. "We'll talk it over."

"Of course," Tissaia says. "Aretuza will always have an open door for you, Ciri."

"Thank you," Ciri says, again executing a perfect curtsey. "I appreciate it."

They say their goodbyes, and head for the stairs, with Yennefer offering Jaskier a wink as she passes. By unspoken agreement, neither of them speak until they are in their room, with the door closed. But as soon as it is, Yennefer can remain silent no longer.

"I felt nothing!" She grasps Tissaia's shoulders, her smile so wide it's almost painful. "When I saw Geralt. I felt _nothing_ for him." She shakes her head. "I don't understand. His wish- Our destinies were bound together."

Tissaia's fingers loop around her wrists, thumbs rubbing at her scars. "My dear, have you not figured it out, yet?"

Frowning, Yennefer tilts her head in confusion. She'd been so busy being thrilled at her lack of romantic interest in Geralt, she hadn't really considered how it had come to pass. "Should I have?"

Tissaia rolls her eyes, but they're shining with affection rather than frustration. She lifts Yennefer's hands off her shoulders and takes them in her own, leaning in as if to share a confidence. "There is no bond in this world that is stronger than genuine, true love."

"What?" Yennefer barks. "Why the fuck wasn't that part of your teachings at Aretuza? Shouldn't that be something a mage should be aware of instead of fiddling around with leaves and twigs in that infernal greenhouse?"

"Oh yes. I'm sure telling a gaggle of pubescent girls that true love is the strongest magic there is wouldn't cause any problems, would it?" Tissaia tuts. "It's hard enough to keep them away from idiotic boys as it is without them trying to channel chaos through their awkward fumblings."

"No but-" Yennefer goes to protest, but she's cut off by Tissaia.

"It can't be faked or conjured, Yennefer. So it's of no use in practical terms." Tissaia shakes her head, letting go of Yennefer's hands. She moves over to the dressing table and starts to remove the pins from her hair. "It's there or it isn't. And it's-" She clears her throat, catching Yennefer's eyes in the mirror briefly before looking away. "-really quite rare."

She lets this information sink in. She'd believed that Geralt's wish would always bind them together in some way. Her feelings for him, though manipulated by magic, had been fierce and consuming and she previously couldn't imagine them ever being otherwise.

But her love for Tissaia has severed that connection so completely she can barely remember how it felt to love another. Her love for Tissaia is true enough to obliterate the hold of a powerful being. Her love for Tissaia is the strongest magic there is. And, given the magic Yennefer has channeled before, that's an awe inspiring thought. She shakes her head.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before we went to dinner?" she asks, trying to keep her voice even and free of accusation. "That it was a possibility?"

Tissaia sighs, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair is down and loose over her shoulders now and it softens all of her features. She turns to face Yennefer before she speaks again.

"I didn't want you to be influenced by this knowledge," she admits. "I wanted you to see how you felt, without the expectation of-" She gestures vaguely between them. "This."

Yennefer understands, suddenly, what has been driving Tissaia's mood this past day.

"You were afraid that when I saw Geralt, the feelings would still be there," Yennefer says, softly. "And you'd know my love for you wasn't true."

"No. That's not-" Tissaia moves closer to her, shaking her head. Her eyes are bright with tears and Yennefer's chest constricts at the sight. "I didn't doubt your love for me, Yennefer. I know you love me. But-" She looks to the side, swiping beneath an eye to catch a tear that's escaped. She looks up at Yen, an embarrassed smile trying to cover the trembling of her chin. "Have you _still_ not mastered the art of finding out someone's greatest fear?"

"Your greatest fear is that I don't love you?" Yennefer asks, her brow creased in concern.

Tissaia rolls her eyes. "You didn't even _try_."

Sighing, Yennefer concentrates on entering Tissaia's mind. She's met with no resistance and finds herself confronted with what Tissaia appears unable to vocalise. She withdraws her mental presence.

"Your greatest fear is that you're not enough for me? That I'll leave you."

Tissaia presses her lips together, linking her hands over her abdomen. "Pathetic, isn't it? For a woman of my age and standing to be reduced to such a state."

"No," Yennefer shakes her head, moving towards Tissaia, stopping when there are only inches between them. She doesn't reach out, not yet. "It's not pathetic. It's-" She grasps around for a word to describe how Tissaia feels, but comes up dry. "Whatever it is, it's unfounded." She leans in and brushes a kiss over the tip of Tissaia's nose, smiling when she wrinkles it. "You've seen irrefutable proof of that tonight, have you not?"

"I have," Tissaia confirms, lifting her hands to cup Yennefer's face and draw her back in for a proper kiss. "As I said before, true love is a rarity. I hadn't dared to hope-" She presses another kiss to Yennefer's lips, and another. Yennefer lets her hands rest on Tissaia's hips, drawing her closer.

"You thought last night was the last time, didn't you?" Yennefer whispers, nuzzling Tissaia's cheek.

"Not necessarily," Tissaia says, moving in so their bodies are melded together. "But I thought it might be the last time before things changed, before you were confronted by your feelings for Geralt again, however artificial."

"And would you have given up so easily?" Yennefer asks, lifting her head to meet Tissaia's eyes. "If these 'feelings' had overtaken me, you'd just have stepped aside and let Geralt have me? You wouldn't have fought for me? For us?"

"My darling girl," Tissaia says, stroking her face with the tips of her fingers. "I'd fight for you with the last breath in my body. I'd fight for you till the sky fell down upon us." She smiles, sadly. "But you are not mine to possess and if you had chosen to be with Geralt, then I could not have stopped you."

"Well, that is a pity," Yennefer says, in an attempt to chase the sadness from Tissaia's eyes. "Because the thought of you fighting a duel with Geralt for my hand is really quite arousing."

Tissaia scoffs. "Yennefer, please, I could dispatch the likes of him without breaking a sweat."

"You're not making it _less_ arousing by saying things like that," Yennefer murmurs, bending to take Tissaia's earlobe between her teeth, tugging gently and smiling when Tissaia pulls her closer. "Anyway, you were wrong, just now," Yennefer tells her, sweeping her hair aside and pressing hot, wet kisses along her neck and shoulder. "So very wrong."

"Oh?" Tissaia's breath hitches when Yennefer's teeth drag across her jugular. "How so?"

Yennefer lifts her head and makes sure Tissaia is looking at her when she next speaks. "I _am_ yours. Whether you wish it to be the case or not. I belong to you. And not because of those four marks you paid for me all those years ago." Guilt flickers in Tissaia's eyes and Yennefer counters it with a kiss. "I am yours. Mind, body and soul, I'm yours."

Tissaia nods, slowly. "I may not have a magical bond with a Witcher to break in order to prove that my love for you is true, Yennefer, but-"

"Hush." Yennefer quiets her with a kiss. "I don't need that. You are all the proof I need. Every single day, you show me you love me, and that's more than enough. _You_ are more than enough."

Tissaia kisses her then, firm and needy, before pulling back and catching her lip between her teeth, hesitating momentarily, a flush appearing on her cheeks. "I am everything," she whispers, echoing the words Yennefer has said to her many times before.

Yennefer grins and nods. "You are everything."

And Yennefer resolves to spend the rest of her life making Tissaia believe it.


End file.
